As her senses became clearer, she realized that two persons were in the room beyond her, and from the sounds they made, the words which from time to time came to her ears, it appeared that they were engaged in the operation of packing.
At first the words that filtered through the partly open doorway were mere fragments of conversation—words spoken here and there in a slightly higher key, and therefore distinguishable to her. She made out that her captors supposed her to be still unconscious—that they were preparing to leave the place.
"There's no hurry," she presently heard one of the women say, in a somewhat louder voice. "If she had had friends waiting outside for her, they would have come to her rescue long ago. I'm sure nobody knows where she is."
"And her husband had gone, long before I left the house. I was watching, and he first went to a saloon on the corner, and then drove off in a taxicab. So I couldn't have been followed here."
"No. But I think we ought to get away as soon as possible. When does that train go?"
"Not until half past five."
"We'll have to wait in the station, then."
"Why not here?"
"Because that woman's husband, when she fails to return to-night, is certain to look for her. She probably came in a cab, and he might trace her that way. My advice is to leave here as soon as possible. Have you finished packing that suit case?"
"No, not quite. What do you propose to do with Jack?"